Mad World
by ResidentPyromaniac
Summary: And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad; the dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had...   Songfic featuring Snapped!Canada.


**Notes:** First off, ignore all random "..."s between sections. That's just because formatting is, frankly, a bitch on this site. Second, I'm pretty sure this is a lot easier to understand if you view that last three segments as being in immediate succession.

**Song Notes:** The song used is "Mad World", originally by Tears for Fears. There's a million covers of it, but the one I used for tone/emotional reference is the Dresden Dolls Live at the Roundhouse Theatre in London. Ask the youtube, if you wish.

**Yet another note: **The ending of this was heavily inspired by the fanart, "Who's Missing, Eh?" by kiriutar on Deviantart. And by heavily inspired by, I mean 'lovingly stolen from'. Don't worry, she gave me permission to.

**ENOUGH WITH THE NOTES!:** I don't own Hetalia. Now, on with the fic.

* * *

**_All around me are familiar faces_**

Why did they even hold these meetings, anyway? They always spiraled into this. Everyone yelling at each other. Nothing actually getting done. Anyone who tried to get everything under control again was immediately shot down, pushed aside, ignored. But it didn't matter. He was used to being ignored.

...

**_Worn out places, worn out faces_**

America wasn't looking too well. Every time he saw him, he looked more and more nervous, as if he was afraid that someone would jump out from behind the nearest shrub/wall/dumpster/table and try to gouge his eyes out. He wouldn't listen to reason. When he tried to comfort him, America just shut him out, too.

...

**_Bright and early for their daily races_**

He was more of a morning person than his brother. America usually didn't wake up before 10:00 at the earliest, unless he had were a lot of differences between them, but nobody bothered to look.

...

**_Going nowhere, going nowhere_**

He couldn't visit Cuba anymore, for fear of being mistaken for his brother. He refused to spend much time dwelling on the fact that even people he thought of as his friends couldn't see the differences between them. No time at all. It wasn't important.

Really.

...

**_And their tears are filling up their glasses_**

"I hate you," England slurred, propping his head up with an arm resting on the bar. "Hate you. 's all your fault. Everythin' was fine before you went and left, you bloody –"

He stopped listening and just let England's abuse slide over him. It wasn't really aimed towards him, anyway, he reasoned. England thought that it was America sitting next to him. The thought wasn't very comforting.

...

**_No expression, no expression_**

He had to keep smiling. Just keep smiling. There was nothing wrong with that, right? He knew how to smile in the face of adversity. He could smile when his own father mistook him for America once again. He knew who he was, and that was enough. Right?

...

**_Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow_**

Is it better, he wondered, to be totally invisible? Of course he hated being ignored completely, but at least he could be himself and not mistaken for America.

...

**_No tomorrow, no tomorrow_**

"Hey, Al. Are you doing anything?"

"Matt, I'm really busy right now. Sorry. I'll call you tomorrow, okay? I promise."

Then it was three weeks later, and nobody had called.

...

**_And I find it kind of funny_**

"I'm Canada. Remember? Your brother?"

...

**_I find it kind of sad_**

"…Who?" America asked, looking blank.

...

**_The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had_**

He couldn't honestly say that he hadn't considered it once in a while. To go out in some indescribably awful way. Nobody would forget who he was afterwards, that much was certain.

...

**_I find it hard to tell you_**

"Is something bothering you, Matt?"

"What? Why do you ask, eh?"

America paused for a second, absentmindedly pushing his glasses back up.

"You know you can talk to me if something's wrong, right? I am your brother, after all…"

"Nothing's wrong, Al."

...

**_'Cause I find it hard to take_**

"I'm Canada!" He screamed. Or he would have, if there had been any chance of anyone hearing.

...

**_When people run in circles_**

"Hey, Matt. I haven't heard from you in a while. I was starting to get a bit worried…"

...

**_It's a very, very… _**

"…Matt…? What are you-"

...

**_…mad world _**

Words painted on the cold glass of the door. Blood growing cooler, thicker. "Who's missing, eh?"


End file.
